


It's Only For A Case

by billie33gd



Series: We Belong [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fem!John - Freeform, Female John Watson, Genderswap, Male Sherlock Holmes/Female John Watson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billie33gd/pseuds/billie33gd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the events after the Great Game, Sherlock acquires a new case, needing Jane more than before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

“Hello?” Jane faintly heard, opening her eyes slowly. “I’ve got one over here. Female!”

She felt a sharp pain in her side. Her clothing was wet, and everything just seem to hurt.

“I’ve found another a little further away. Male. It looks like Mr. Homes, detective.” Someone else shouted.

“Get them both to an ambulance now!” Lestrade’s voice kicked in. “Let me know if a third body is found.”

Jane’s eyes felt heavy, and began to close slowly. Only to hear something about Sherlock, and loss of blood.

**~****~**

“She didn’t sustain too many injuries. A couple ribs were broken, I would presume it was from getting hit with the debris. Broken nose, and a few cuts here and there. She will recover fine. Your brother on the other hand was cut rather deep. He’s awake, and up and about fussing. But he needs to not run around.”

“I assure you Dr. Frazier,  neither of them will be doing too much tedious work.” Another man spoke. His voice was scarily familiar in her ears.

“Good luck with that…” Jane finally opened her eyes, seeing Mycroft and Dr. Frazier at the end of the bed.

“Ah, Dr. Watson. So good to see you awake.” Dr, Frazier smiled.

“How long have I been out?” Jane asked, feeling pain and stiffness.

“Nine days.”

“Nine?” Her eyes widened. “I woke a little at the scene, but that’s all I remember.”

“I need to inform Inspector Lestrade that you are awake. He has questions for you.” Dr. Frazier nodded. “Buzz if you start to feel pain. The nurse will be in in twenty minutes to change the tape for your ribs.”

He left, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t have much information for you Mycroft.” Jane whispered, pulling herself up painfully. Her left side hurt, but she was tired pf lying down.

“Oh no, I know. Sherlock gave us what happened, and we have you’re kidnapping on the CCTV footage. We just don’t know what he did to you.” Mycroft answered, leaning on his umbrella.

“I was not sexually assaulted Mycroft. A couple of his henchmen tried, but now their noses will be out of line forever. Why are you asking?”

“Ah, it was not a question of mine.” He replied. “My brother has been fussing about since he’s been here. Keeps demanding to see you, but he’s not allowed in as a patient or visitor.”

“How did you get in here?” Jane asked, already knowing the answer.

“Your brother, Jamie, allowed me rights when he was not here. He did some shouting at Sherlock a couple days ago.”

“Oh my god, what did Sherlock say to him?” Jane covered her face in embarrassment.

“That he _'was an alcoholic with a knack for cheating and disappointing you'_. He also stated that he does not like the attitude he puts you in when you make your weekly call. Says it kind of ruins you…”

“Sherlock said that?” She asked, astonished.

“Every word.” He smirked. “Seems that you have done some good for my brother Dr. Watson. He still is childish in every whey that is nearly possible. I must go tell my brother you are awake before that poor doctor gets his head ripped off.”

“Thanks…” Jane smiled, leaning her head against the pillow. A few minutes later the nurse came in and changed the tape for her ribs. They also brought her food, and Lestrade. Well not literally, but he was there.

“Do you remember anything Jane?” Lestrade asked, pulling a chair up.

“I am sure Sherlock told you everything that happened in the pool hall.”

“Yes, but we need your account for the kidnapping.” He replied. “Mycroft handed over copies of how it happened, but there is an hour before you were at the pool hall.”

“All I can really remember was being attacked, and waking in the trunk of a car. Then he watched them strap the bomb to me, and I was forced to wait until Sherlock arrived.”

“Did they do anything to you?”

“A couple men tried, but I fought back and they didn’t dare try again.” Jane sighed, leaning back into the pillow. She felt extremely tired from the drugs they had her on, and she knew exactly what they had her on.

“Right.” He looked away. “We have everyone out on this. To catch this Moriarty fellow.”

“You won’t find him.”

“We’re trying-”

“He’s too clever. Sherlock didn’t even know they had taken me. He didn’t know that I was going to have a bomb strapped to my chest, that there were going to be snipers, and that the man, Jim Moriarty, was so close, and fooled him. He hid himself so well as Molly’s boyfriend, and playing gay, that Sherlock didn’t even know that he was the man causing this.” Jane breathed out. “So that shows us that Sherlock can be tricked. And it’s frightening that there is another person out there like him. You know this. Sherlock Holmes is your best bet against that awful man out there.”

Lestrade kept his eyes on her, shocked at the amount of anger that was present in her voice. He had not seen her angry at all, unless she was scowling at Sherlock for a rude comment.

“You seem, angry-”

“Of course I _‘seem’_ angry. I have witnessed enough death in my life to put me off of people and being a doctor in general, Inspector. This man, kills. He kills innocent people, because he gets off on it. He likes it, and he won’t stop. Moriarty wants Sherlock dead, and out of the way. Moriarty is what people, especially your men, think Sherlock will become. A psychopath, who gets bored, and kills. Except someone has already gone that far. He has a string of people who work for him, but we don’t know who they are.”

“How do you know all this? Sherlock rambled it off earlier. You weren’t even awake…”

“I’m not stupid Lestrade. I’ve picked up enough from living with Sherlock. I’m not a genius either, but I know that man won’t stop, and you cannot go after him without Sherlock. He’ll be glad. It’s a case!”

Her monitor beeped, her heart rate speeding up. Lestrade sighed again, pulling a small notepad from his pocket.

“At the pool…” Lestrade looked at the bandages on her hands. “Sherlock, he says there was a bomb strapped to you, Moriarty left, you took it off, and then Moriarty came back. He shot, and the explosion happened.”

“That’s what happened. There were snipers, which is why we didn’t shoot Moriarty.”

“Jane, Sherlock didn’t ramble any deductions. He told us what happened, asked us to leave, then demanded that he see your charts. He’s holding information back. What happened at the pool?”

“Whatever he told you is what I know Lestrade. I mean, if I remember anything else I will let you know.”

“Alright.” Lestrade stood up. “Get some rest. And when you and Sherlock are discharged, I’m not allowing you on cases. You both need to get better. Make sure he doesn’t die…”

“Been doing that for a few months now Inspector.” Jane smirked, finding her nose in pain. “Keep your officers in line, and I’ll keep that man in line. To the best of my ability.”

Lestrade nodded leaving the hospital room. Jane wasn’t going to tell him everything that happened. If Sherlock didn’t mention it, she wouldn’t either.

“Why can’t I go in there?” The familiar baritone voice asked outside her door. “I am _family_ you imbecile. I don’t care if her brother says no, I’m marrying the woman…”

“Sir, you’re still not family.”

“So I can’t be in there with my fiancé, because you have to go and be an idiot?”

Jane laughed. Of course he would say something along the lines being her fiance to get in Jane’s hospital room. He’s used it before.

“Sir, I have no proof you are her fiancé, or husband…”

“Ask her. I have been discharged. I am no longer a patient, I have visiting rights.”

“Her brother says no. And so far, he is in charge Mr. Holmes.”

Jane pressed the nurse button multiple times, until the door finally opened again.

“Miss Watson?” The nurse's voice was sweet and kind, already making Jane miss her work.

“Um yes, my uh, fiancé is wanting to see me. He was in the hospital too, but was being discharged today. The doctors don’t know, I don’t wear my ring on cases…”

“Oh no worries sweetheart.” The nurse (Her name was Shelly) smiled, making Jane cringe. “I’ll let him in for you okay. Just let the doctors know too.”

“Thank you.” Jane smiled as she walked out. Within a few minutes Dr. Frazier walked in with an eager Sherlock behind him.

“Mr. Holmes, I said wait outside.”

“But-”

“Sherlock!” Jane put on her best _‘Oh it’s so great to see you!’_ smile.

“Jane-” Sherlock did the same, until Dr. Frazier held his arm out.

“Dr. Watson, he is not permitted in here…”

“By my brother, I know. But I am awake, and aware Dr. Frazier, and my brother is only in charge while I am unconscious. So now, I am in charge of whom I can see, and dear Sherlock is family.”

“Alright then.” He frowned. “I should let you know that it would be terrible to try to kiss anyone… And you won’t be released for at least another couple days.”

“Yes, thank you.” Jane smiled while Sherlock pretended to hover closer to her. She could feel the heat radiating through his shirt. He had a few scratches along his face and hands that she could see, and a black eye, but didn’t look too seriously injured. Other than the fact he winced when he moved.

Sherlock even gripped her hand.

“I would like you to be extra careful.” Dr. Frazier eyed them both. “Two of her ribs are broken, and you got off better. Don’t stress that cut Mr. Holmes, or I will restrain you again to the hospital bed.”

“Alright. Thank you Dr. Frazier. I would like some alone time with my fiancé, if you don’t mind.” Sherlock squeezed Jane’s hand a little more. The doctor nodded and walked out the door closing it behind him.

“I really need to remove Jamie from that list…” Jane finally spoke up.

“Yes, that would be advised. He has got a strong right hook.”

“Oh no. Jamie…” She whispered, shaking her head. “I am sorry-”

“You weren’t breathing.” Sherlock breathed. “Part of the ceiling hit you when you grabbed me to throw us into the pool. It didn’t draw blood or anything, but when I pulled you out of the water, there was barely a pulse. That is why you were knocked out for days.”

“Sherlock, are you okay?” Jane asked, watching the man pace. He waved the thought off, finally jumping into the chair beside her bed. “Sherlock-”

“I think, for once, that I am feeling something completely different than normal. When I saw that bomb strapped to you-”

“Sherlock, you don’t have to talk about it.” Jane whispered. "If you don't want too."

“Isn’t that what normal people do? Talk about their, feelings?” Sherlock asked, his fingers beneath his chin and his legs crossed under him. “Try to make sense of them?”

“But this is you Sherlock.” Jane moved to sit up, wincing again. The pain medication wasn’t helping yet. “You’ve said before that you’re a sociopath.”

“Ah, I see.” He looked away for a second gathering his thoughts. “Things, they can’t change, according to you.”

“No, they, they can change. It’s happened before.” She answered.

“I’ve been wrong before, haven’t I?” Sherlock asked, now moving his hands to the arms of the chair. “Jamie, for example, he had walked out on his husband because he couldn’t handle disappointing him. But I was wrong. He walked out, because he caught him with another man, in which escalated the drinking.”

“Sherlock-”

“I didn’t know that Anderson had an open relationship with his wife. Hence is why he was seeing Donovan. But still in secret, due to the rest of the impeccable yard.” Sherlock continued. “And I didn’t observe you.”

“What are you talking about?” Jane asked.

“You were disappointed when I showed up at the pool.” He responded, now glancing at her heart monitor. “You had thought, that maybe I had figured something was wrong, but wouldn’t go there to meet a mad man who has been killing all about London. Ah Jane, you should know that I would have…”

“I knew you were going to show up.” Jane retorted. “I was just hoping you wouldn’t have come on your own.”

“And why is that?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“I shouldn’t need to tell you I think you have the most brilliant mind of this era. And with you dead, it’s me back in a flat I can’t afford.” Jane sighed. “Plus, I would get terribly bored.”

“Ah,” Sherlock chuckled. “No other reasons then?”

“You would know them.”

“You _care_ Jane. I can see it plainly in the way you make me eat, or when you told me to run.” He answered smugly.

“Of course I _care_ Sherlock. I am a doctor, and my first instinct is to protect anyone of my ‘men’ as you could say in the military. I wasn’t a general, nor was I in charge, but when I was in charge of men that were dying in my arms, I cared. I bloody made sure I did, so they knew someone was trying to take care of them instead of letting them die.

“Outside of being a doctor.”

“There isn’t any ‘outside of being a doctor’ with you Sherlock. You don’t take care of yourself, so I make sure you eat. So you don’t wither away to nothing.”

“You are avoiding the question Jane.”

“Why should I answer if I know you know? You stated've it already.”

“Because it is nice to hear verbal conformation.” He whispered, catching Jane off guard.

“Sherlock-”

“I will be back later Jane. I need to get back to the flat and start tracking him. He’s bound to be out there somewhere. Not too far either.”

“Sherlock get back in that damn chair.” Jane pointed to the chair, her heart rate speeding up again. “Now.”

“There are rather more important things to be done Ja-”

“Do not make me force you. I can, and will take you, even in this condition Sherlock.” Jane raised an eyebrow, her tone deadly. The man scowled, but sat in the chair. Jane let a painful breath out, relaxing just a little more. “This obviously needs to be discussed. But I have a question for you-”

“Why have I diagnosed myself as a sociopath?” He answered. Jane only nods, still amazed by this mans ability. “Started when I was young. I didn’t care much when everybody went through their snogging phase. I found most women infuriating, always dealing with makeup, or how they had to dress.”

His phone started to ring immediately after, in which he answered quickly. Jane laid back against the pillows, wondering when the pain medication was going to kick in. Or if they were going to bring her more.

“Lestrade hated to ask us to do this, but there’s been another cold case reopened. I really don’t mind.” Sherlock stated, sliding his phone away. “It’s better than being bored out of my mind.”

“I can’t do this right now Sherlock.” Jane sighed.

“The murderer only murders three a year. We have awhile. So you can heal.”

“And what about you?”

“You already know the answer to that Dr. Watson.” Sherlock smirked before standing.

“Wait,”

“Jane, you need your rest, and I was about to inform Dr. Frazier that you need more medication.” He responded. “This conversation will be continued when you have the ability to at least yell at me. Plus this case will end up making you want to strangle me as well.”

“Good to know.” She muttered as Sherlock walked out of the room. Seconds later Dr. Frazier walked in with medication. _Not enough_ she though, but at least it will knock her out long enough.

“Thank you doctor.” Jane smiled, finding Sherlock back in the chair.

“You seem to be doing well.” Dr. Frazier ran his hand gently over her ribs. She winced at the contact. “Still tender, but better. They should be better in four to eight weeks. You could be released tomorrow.”

“That would be fantastic.” She smiled.

“The cut on your palm needs to be watched. I’ll have a nurse come in in about half an hour to check it again. It became infected from the dirt. And your nose is healing on track. Though it might take about two weeks to be set properly. It was a clean break.”

Jane nodded and he walked out. All she really wanted now was sleep, and those pills were kicking in.

“I want you to sleep and eat Sherlock.” She whispered closing her eyes. He chuckled. _Damn arrogant bastard_ Jane thought before falling into her drug induced sleep.


	2. Chapter Two

Jane was home. Back at 221B Baker Street, and already wanting to be back in the hospital.

“What have you done?” Jane asked, astonished with the amount of paperwork that was taking over the flat. “Sherlock?”

The lanky man slid his coat off, hanging it on the hook behind the door.

“It’s for that case I told you about. I’ve been doing some research on who it could be, and I’ve narrowed it down to two men who have been working together for years. They stopped ten years ago, due to almost being caught.”

“I told you not yet Sherlock.”

“I’m not on the case yet.” He retorted. “Unless they murder before we think they might.

“We?”

“Lestrade. I haven’t told him everything. I don’t want to, because he would never let us do this. Oh, and here.” He handed her a velvet box.

“What is this?” Jane asked, astonished at the amount of information Sherlock was giving her. And that he wasn’t calling her an idiot…

“It was my grandmothers.” He shrugged, sitting on the floor in the middle of his paperwork. “Open it.”

Jane grew nervous as she opened the small box. Inside was an antique ring. The center stone was sapphire and round, with a square halo around it. The halo was filled with small diamonds long with four on each side. It was white gold, and absolutely beautiful. All she could do was stare at it.

“Sherlock, um, I am confused. Why are you giving me this?”

“So people know we are engaged Jane. Really, I need you to keep up with me.” Sherlock waved his hand at her. “Take a seat, you’ll bust a rib again breathing that hard.”

“I never accepted a proposal from you Sherlock.”

“Jane,” Sherlock looked up, finding Jane’s eyes wide. “Oh yes, I haven’t informed you.”

“No, you haven’t Sherlock.” Jane seethed.

“In the cold case, every couple was found dead. The male killed by the female, then the female made to look like it was suicide. Until the last couple murders, they became sloppy, and it was discovered that it was a serial killer. He targeted wealthy males, and would force the females into writing a note about marrying the male because of how much money they had, but got too impatient.”

“So you want us to pose as an engaged then married couple to get the murderers attention?” Jane asked slowly, her eyes darting everywhere but the ring and Sherlock.

“Yes, I’ve narrowed it down to the two men who were working together. I just don’t have an sufficient evidence. They stopped when a girl had escaped, and told the police. But they never found them, and later she was found dead by shooting herself. Which was actually another murder. I can’t find what they had in common yet. The one thing is that there are three couples a year. January, May, and September.”

“Well that’s new.” Jane rolled her eyes. Already another case. She _should_ be completely used to this by now. But it saves Mrs. Hudson’s wall from being abused again. “Then what’s with the ring?”

“You need to wear it when we’re in public. Do keep up Jane. Idiocy is not a good look on you.” He shrugged, moving more papers around.

“I haven’t agreed to this yet.” Jane sighed, laying back down. Her side was hurting, and she was pretty sure the tape would need changing before she went to bed.

“We could get this done fairly quickly.” Sherlock added, walking into the kitchen. He poured water into the kettle, and set it on the stove.

“Are you making tea?” Jane asked, astonished.

“Yes I am. You need _something_ Jane.” He mused, back to the pile of papers. Her eyes just stared at him, but he ignored it. “And besides, we need to tell everyone we’re engaged Jane.”

“Why would we need to do that? Can just the people we’re going after know?”

“No. We have to make it believable. Pay attention” Sherlock stated, rolling his eyes.

“Then you better propose to me, _darling_.” Jane snapped, getting up. She wanted to make a better exit than limping in pain. But she was already irritated with Sherlock, and her nose started to hurt. Everything was just hurting more then it normally did.

_Damn it Sherlock_

**~****~**

Two weeks later, Jane was lying in bed. Her body wasn’t hurting as much as before, but her nose and ribs still contained a dull ache. Tomorrow she was going in to have the two ribs checked, even though she knew they were healed. She still had to wear the tape before then to be safe.

“Shit-” She muttered. She forgot to change it.

Groaning, Jane got out of bed and went into the restroom. The only problem was that her shoulder was killing her, and it would make it difficult for her to even remove the tape around her.

“You didn’t change it before bed.” Sherlock’s voice startled her.

“Jesus Sherlock!” Jane snapped, catching her breath. “I almost hit you hard enough to knock you out.”

“Then I would have blocked Jane. Some of your movements are completely predictable.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “You’re going to have a problem because your shoulder is stiff from the weather, and the way you were attempting to sleep on it.”

“I’ll manage.” Jane scoffed, attempting to push the door closed.

“No you won’t. You’ll be in too much pain.”

“Well I really haven’t a choice Sherlock, have I?” She frowned.

“I could help.”

“No.”

“Jane, it is perfectly logical.” Sherlock pushed his way in, closing the door behind him. “I know how to do it. Plus Dr. Frazier was adamant on showing me before he let you go. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember Sherlock. But you’re my flat mate, and this is pushing boundaries.” Jane replied, shaking her head. She should have known he had no sense of privacy.

“It is also making sure you do not hurt yourself further, since we need to get into the case quickly.” Sherlock turned her. “Lift your shirt.”

“Sherlock-

Ignoring her, he lifted the light shirt to just above where the tape was. Jane, being an idiot in his eyes, groaned, and protested, but Sherlock ignored it. 

He noticed some scars along her torso. He wanted to know how they had gotten there, and why. Why would anyone try to hurt Jane? He assumed it was from war, and being a woman in the army was hard, even in this day and age.

“You were held hostage.” He finally spoke, while reaching for the tape. Jane didn’t answer him. She didn’t want too. “They didn’t violate you sexually, but it does look like-”

“Just stop.” Jane replied, her voice dark. “Do not say another word, alright?”

For once Sherlock listened, and just continued setting the tape around her.

“Thank you.” She whispered, pulling her shirt back down.

“Do you want some tea?” He asked, hoping to lighten the mood, and get more answers about her time in Afghanistan.

“Sherlock, what has gotten into you?” Jane narrowed her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. “Before the pool, you wouldn’t even bother doing anything like this at all. Now you’re making tea, and making sure I’m okay…”

“Nothing has gotten into me.” Sherlock huffed, opening the door. Jane tried to stop him, but heard the door of his room slam. She wasn’t exactly sure, but something had gotten into Sherlock, and she wanted to know what.

**~****~**

“Ah, so nice to see you, Jane Watson.” Mycroft looked up from his desk. “And it looks as though you are healing well?”

“Yea, just fine.”

“I take it you are here because of my brothers strange behavior?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I am.” Jane sat across from him. She hated coming to see Mycroft. One particular reason was because she had to dress up. And dresses weren’t her favorite things after the army . “Did he receive any concussions, or anything?”

“No. He was only cut from a piece of metal. And also had a few scrapes and bruises. You were hurt the most.” Mycroft answered. “My brother has always had an, _odd_ , concern for you Jane.”

“What do you mean by odd?” Jane raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Sherlock Holmes rarely cares for anything but himself, the game, and his violin. He cares about his work, and getting everything correct. Except, you aren’t entirely correct to my brother. You surprise him constantly, Jane Watson.”

Jane stared beyond Mycroft for a moment.

_'Why should I answer if I know you know? You’ve stated it already.'_

_'Because it is nice to hear verbal conformation.'_

“My brother may come off as many things, heartless being one of them. But he really isn’t that way. He just avoids situations where he gets too involved. No one understands how he thinks, and as a result he receives so many harsh words for his observation skills. Sherlock has never been much of a people person.”

“He isn’t going to like you mentioning this to me.” Jane stood, ready to get home and change. She had her answer.

“He isn’t going to like that you’re not wearing grandmothers ring yet either.” The elder Holmes brother smirked. “I do suppose he needs to make it official though.”

“Oh goodness.” Jane shook her head, retrieving her coat. Her phone buzzed promptly.

“I believe you have a case Jane. Do please look after Sherlock? I worry about him still.”

Jane nodded, still in awe of him. Damn right he was related to Sherlock. She almost didn’t remember why she went there.

She caught a cab back to Baker Street. There was apparently nothing wrong with her flat mate. Other than the fact he was attempting to be less infuriating when it came to matters of the flat.

Jane’s phone buzzed again, forcing her to actually check it.

_New development. Come to 221B at once. - **SH**_

_Why haven’t you answered? I grow impatient Jane. And if you’re still with Mycroft, do tell him to bugger off. - **SH**_

Jane chuckled, the cab pulling up to the door. She handed him his fair, before jumping out.

“Oh, what took you so long?” Sherlock snapped when Jane walked in. “I didn’t-”

He stopped, giving her a quick glance. Jane was wearing a dress. And actual dress.

“Sherlock?” She asked, waving her hand in front of his face. He looked lost, and that shocked to her.

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “Lestrade would like us down at the Yard. He has a different case than this one, that will tide us over till we can go through with the other one.”

“I’ll just change really quick.” She nodded turning to leave, until his hand grasped her arm.

“No need too.” He nodded. “We need to leave now.”

“Fine.” Jane wrinkled her nose. Sherlock sped a head of her, while she grabbed the illegal fire arm that was kept in a drawer. Luckily, the knife was already secure to the front of her bra. Ever since the pool incident, she didn’t go anywhere without it.

The man was oddly silent in the cab, but she couldn’t help but notice the quick glances from his phone.

**~****~**

“I will kick every one of those men in the sac…” Jane growled as Sherlock held the door open for her to the yard. Almost every sergeant, DI, or officer had whistled at her. She hated when men whistled at her. Don’t they know what she could do to them?

“Most men are borderline savage Jane. They have most likely, not seen a woman in a dress for a while, or not seen you in a dress. I would go with the latter.”

“That’s why you didn’t let me change isn’t it?” Jane’s eyes widened. “You wanted to test their reactions…”

“Not just theirs.” Sherlock stated simply, walking into Lestrade’s office.

“Ah Sherlock, and Jane.” He nodded to Anderson before walking toward them. “It’s nice to see that you look better. Both of you.”

“You called. What is the case?” Sherlock snapped.

“We have a man on the loose…”

“I don’t do those Lestrade. You know that.”

“Thing is, he disappeared. We were chasing him on foot, when he just vanished. He broke from Sergeant Donovan’s hold, elbowed her in the nose, and ran off.”

“Is Donovan okay?” Jane asked, ignoring Sherlock’s childish plop into the chair.

“Yes, just getting her nose set. She’ll match you, if you don’t mind me saying…”

“Enough with the flirting Lestrade.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I’m assuming the culprit had some help. I need his file.”

Lestrade huffed, walking out of the room.

“You didn’t have to be rude Sherlock.” Jane scolded him. “He wasn’t flirting.”

“Mentioning that Donovan would look like you, just because you both have bandages on your noses is very much flirting Jane. But proves my theory.” He mused, his eyes falling upon Anderson, who was stealing glances at Jane.

“And what theory is that?” Jane whispered as Lestrade walked in, and handed the file to Sherlock.

“You should wear dresses more often.” He smirked, setting the file down. “I have everything I need, I know where the man is and who is helping him.”

“Did you just use the fact that I have nice legs and curves to distract them?” Jane nearly shouted, feeling her face flush.

“When you put it that way Jane, it sounds awful. I used your gender to our advantage.”

“Our? You mean your. I could smack you Sherlock. Hard.”

The man just chuckled. With Lestrade in the room, Jane would have to wait on her revenge.

“The file was in here.” Sherlock smiled. “I have an idea of where he is. Be there in two hours. I’ll text the address.”

With that he sauntered off. Lestrade stared at him, and Jane had to hurry up to him.

“Did _he_ make you dress that way?” Anderson asked, his voice snide and annoying.

“No Anderson, I am actually capable of dressing myself.” She retorted.

“You can’t seriously follow him around like that though. It makes you an easy target for attackers, and draws attention to the both of you.” He sneered.

“Jane! Come on!” Sherlock shouted, by the door.

“I don’t follow him around, and I will never be an easy target Anderson. Please get those illusions out of your head, and stop staring at me.” Jane turned to leave.

“Any one who follows the freak around is an easy target. Look what happened to you with the pool incident-”

The sentence wasn’t even finished before Jane’s fist met Anderson’s already crooked nose. The man fell back against his desk, and other officers, including Lestrade were all around him.

“Please think before you speak Anderson.” Jane smiled, shaking her hand out. “And stop staring at me. I’ll file a report next time you make a comment on what I am wearing.”

Lestrade was holding back from laughing when she walked away. This time, Sherlock had to hurry to catch up to her.

“I was never expecting something like that to happen.” He breathed out, finally caught up to her quickened strides. “Not from you Jane Watson.”

She looked up at him, stopping. His pupils were dilated, and she could see that his pulse was quickened. Sherlock was, attracted? To her?

Then Mycroft’s words played in her head again.

_'You surprise him constantly, Jane Watson.'_

“Where do we need to go Sherlock?”

**~****~**

“I do way too much for you…” Jane shivered, her teeth chattering loudly against the cold.

They had caught the criminal. In fact, Jane had caught him, but he decided to throw them into the Thames. She was now freezing, and hated that her favorite pair of boots were completely soaked.

Sherlock had almost panicked when he saw them go over. He wasn’t sure if she would survive the fall, and if she did, what would the criminal could have done to her still plays in his mind.

“Here.” He wrapped his coat around her along with his scarf. “Are you okay?”

“Other than freezing, and not feeling my shoulder yes. I’m fine.” Jane snapped, snuggling further into his coat. It was fairly big on her, but she didn’t mind the warmth.

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to be dead before the wedding.” Sherlock smirked, making Jane want to punch him.

“You haven’t proposed yet, sweetheart.” Jane smiled, tapping his face as a playful gesture. But she made sure it stung.

“Um, what?” Donovan stopped in her tracks.

“I was going to wait till our dinner reservation, but now I just can’t.” Sherlock smiled, flashing his playful eyes to Jane.

“Don’t you dare…” Jane seethed quietly, pulling the man down to her eye level. “Sherlock-”

“We need witnesses, and you are well enough.” Sherlock remarked quietly.

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep.” Jane whispered as he stood back up.

 _I hate you. I hate you. I hate you._ Jane thought.

“What’s going on?” Donovan asked again. “Are you two together?”

“Of course we are. None of your skills are as par as mine, hence is why you hadn’t noticed.” Sherlock waved his hand, and dropped down to one knee. “Jane Hannah Watson, will you do the honor of becoming my wife?”

Jane gaped at Sherlock. Her face became red with embarrassment, but his matched it color for color. She almost believed it was real. The small velvet box was in his hand, and opened. She was impressed, except the fact he mention of her middle name.

“You’re kidding?” Lestrade asked, eyes wide.

“No.” Sherlock told him, face straight and eyes actually glowing. “It’s not a joke.”

Jane grabbed Sherlock by the collar, pulling him level with her. She figured if he was doing this in front of everyone, she should make it believable. Then, she kissed him.

“What the fuck?” Anderson shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear.

It was a careful kiss on Jane’s part. Sherlock figured they were suppose to be ‘happy go lucky’ at this point, so his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, while kissing Jane harder. Naturally, Jane’s arms wrapped around his neck and she gave him plenty of tongue. It was believable.

“I take that as a yes?” Sherlock asked, after breaking apart for air. Jane could only nod. She had a few words for him waiting at the back of her mouth.

“Yes.” She answered finally, so everyone could hear. Sherlock smiled like an idiot, and slid the ring on her finger. “Oh, it’s lovely Sherlock.”

“Are you really with him?” Donovan asked, pointing at Sherlock like he was some sort of science experiment. He might as well be to her.

“It isn’t our fault that no one paid attention.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around Jane’s waist. “We’re getting married, and would like you to attend when we decide a date.”

“Don’t you think we should head home darling?” Jane smiled resting her hand on his chest. If he was going to play this way, so was she.

“Alright, I want you in tomorrow for your statements.” Lestrade walked up to them. “And to discuss other things.”

“We’ll be there.” Sherlock smiled, pulling Jane away with him for a cab.

“I can’t believe I said yes.” Jane whispered as he pulled her along.

“I had to make it believable Jane. I wasn’t expecting you to fall into the Thames, and I was going to ask you at the pub with the Yard later. But this is enough. They believed it.”

“I think I almost did too.” She responded as Sherlock hailed a cab.

“It was good for credibility. Everyone now knows we’re engaged.” He smiled, opening the door for her.

“I still might murder you in your sleep.” Jane murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. At least he made it believable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter up! I hope you enjoy it!


	3. Chapter Three

“I still can’t believe you’re marrying him Jane.” Sean spoke up, sipping his drink. “I mean, he’s nearly gotten you killed, how many times now?”

“I was almost killed in Afghanistan too, Sean.” Jane replied. They were sitting in the lunch room at the clinic. It had been a week, and Sherlock was still trying to find out how each couple was connected. Everybody questioned them. Lestrade, mostly because of the case.

“Yea, but he takes you into the danger.” Sean sighed. “What happened to what we had?”

“I seem to recall you getting fairly upset after being mistaken as Sherlock, and we tried another date. We didn’t have much Sean.” Jane set her cup down.

“But you’re marrying a psychopath.”

“Sociopath.” Jane corrected, mentally slapping her head.

“It’s always ‘Sherlock needs this,’ or ‘Sherlock needs that.’ Or even ‘I hope Sherlock ate this morning.’ Have you thought about yourself?”

“In fact, I have Sean. This is something I want to do.” She shrugged, trying to keep the façade up. Sherlock _did_ mean a lot to her. More than he really should. “I love Sherlock Holmes, and I’m going to marry him.”

Her phone buzzed on the table. Sean tried to take a look, but Jane grabbed it quickly taking her tray with her.

“Yes, _dearie_.” Jane answered. She had an array words for Sherlock when in public. Love, dear, dearie, darling, among others. The man deserved that much for putting her through this much trouble.

“We’re going to my parents this weekend.” Sherlock responded, his voice strict and almost unnerving.

“ _What?_ ” Jane whispered.

“And we’re leaving tonight.”

“How-”

“Mycroft.” He replied, bored. “I will see you when you arrive home. Don’t bother with the milk.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” Jane asked, surprised.

“More proof on our love for each other.” He replied in a monotone. “Phone calls are still boring, even if I am speaking with the woman whom I am marrying.”

“This isn’t going to be permanent.” Jane replied. “After-”

“I’ll speak with you later Jane.” Sherlock mumbled, hanging up on her. Jane let out a sigh. She was going to meet Sherlock’s family. The Holmes family.

**~****~**

“Is there anything I need to be frightened about? Like, multiple you and Mycroft’s?”

“Do not be silly Jane. My mother is nothing like Mycroft or I. And my father, he is more like me. Or should I say, I am more like him.” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Brilliant. They are going to know everything about me in moments.” Jane muttered, hugging her jacket tighter around herself. “Why did you make me wear this Sherlock? I haven’t dressed like this in years…”

“I think you should wear dresses or skirts more often.” He shrugged, picking his bag up. Jane grabbed hers too, following behind him to the huge home.

“It’s kind of hard to go gallivanting around London with a skirt. Especially when trying to keep up with you.”

“You did well the night I proposed, so it is possible. But I do admit, I would rather keep the sight to myself.” Sherlock mused, smirking. He watched her jaw nearly drop.

“Sherlock-”

“Oh, you have arrived on time!” Mycroft exclaimed, opening the door.

“Of course Mycroft. I didn’t want to let, mummy, down.” Sherlock scoffed, shoving past him. He heard Jane mutter an apology on his behalf, even though he knew she wasn’t thrilled to be meeting his parents under this matter.

“Sherlock, dear.” He turned, seeing his mother stand before him. She wrapped her arms around him, and even he hugged back. Jane was astonished. “You look well. Still too thin, like your father. And this must be lovely Jane.”

Jane smiled, dropping her arms from hugging the coat close to her. It was freezing.

“She is very beautiful Sherlock, just like you’ve said.” His mother smiled. Sherlock turned pink, and Jane tried not to laugh. “Take her coat Sherlock. It is most improper not too.”

“Yes, mother.” Sherlock groaned, stepping behind Jane. She let him slip the coat off, taking it, along with the bags upstairs.

 _Don’t leave me alone, you git._ Jane thought, feeling self-conscious around Sherlock’s family.

“Come Jane. The sitting room is right over here. Sherlock’ll be down in a moment.” Mrs. Holmes smiled.

“Thank you, Mrs. Holmes.”

“Call me Evelina. Allcott, the boys father, will be here shortly. He is in the lab. Chemist’s.” Evelina chuckled, her features resembling Sherlock’s.

“Ah, Sherlock will find him rather quickly then.” Jane smiled.

“Tell me, how is it that you and Sherlock finally gave in?” Evelina smiled, sitting beside Jane in what looked like a formal sitting room.

“Gave in?”

“When he would-”

“Evelina…” A strong male voice, much like Sherlock’s boomed into the room, almost frightening Jane. “I told you not to let Sherlock into my lab…”

“I didn’t Allcott, he knows how to pick a lock. You taught him.” She smiled. Jane could immediately pick up on the tension.

“You must be Jane.” He stated, stepping in front of her. “I did expect you to be taller, after hearing that you served as an army doctor. Tell me, were you very good? You seem to have a tremor, though it’s not there right now-”

“I was a surgeon till I was invalidated home.” Jane interrupted. “I was injured.”

“Ah, left shoulder I presume? Explains the tremor.” He nodded. Mycroft had wandered in, followed by Sherlock, who looked somewhat disheveled. “You aren’t as tan as you were though, am I correct?”

“Father, Humphrey was looking for you.” Sherlock voiced, walking toward them. “Something about dinner-”

“He is not.” Allcott turned to Sherlock. “Dinner will be ready soon, and he is not having any problems with it.”

“No, but one of his workers, who is making your different dish, is sick. Hay Fever I suspect.” Sherlock answered, not meeting his fathers eyes.

“I just apprehended the man.” Allcott stated, sitting in a chair. Sherlock approached Jane sitting beside her. “None of us will become ill. Now Sherlock, do tell us how you decided to finally tie the knot?”

Sherlock so charmingly explained that living as flat mates wasn’t helping the sexual tension. And they just decided to giving each other a ‘try’ and it worked. Jane couldn’t help but feel as if Sherlock was trying to impress his father, and almost failing.

“Very you Sherlock.” Mycroft smirked. He knew, he _had_ to know it was only for a case.

“Madam, dinner is ready.” An elderly man stepped into the room.

“Thank you Humphrey. Go a head and take the rest of the night off.” Evelina smiled, rising. Everyone followed into the large dinning room which made Jane’s eyes go completely wide. She had known Sherlock had some sort of income from somewhere, and this was it.

Dinner was oddly silent, and Jane couldn’t tell what she was eating. Sherlock barely touched his food at all, and his father kept staring at her and Sherlock.

“I find the pairing odd.” Allcott finally stated. Sherlock snapped his head toward the man. “She just is not your type Sherlock.”

“I do not have a type father.” Sherlock growled.

“An invalidated soldier Sherlock. No offense to you Jane, but you do seem rather, dull.”

Evelina and Mycroft remained silent. Jane on the other hand took to gripping her knife under the table. If she threw it just right, it would hit the elder Holmes in the jugular.

Surprisingly Sherlock’s hand was resting on hers. Jane found it oddly comforting for the situation.

“I am.” She smiled. “I make tea and follow your son around like the idiot I am. I also make sure he doesn’t die at the hands of the criminals, or his own eating and sleeping habits. I make sure he is cared for. It is oddly boring isn’t it?”

Mycroft was the first and only one to laugh.

“She is right you know.” Mycroft responded, sipping his wine. At least he was trying to break the tension.

“I am perfectly fine of taking care of myself.” Sherlock announced, irritated. “But it is nice to have praise every once in a while.”

Evelina smiled, Mycroft sniggered, and Mr. Holmes didn’t say anything. 

“Only if the flat isn’t burned down.” Jane joked, turning slightly in the direction of Sherlock.

“That hasn’t happened.” He scowled. “Anyways father, we’re not having a big wedding. Thought I should let you know that now, before you plan to invite everyone on the Holmes side of the family.

“And why not son? You should parade the fact that you have someone to follow you around.”

That comment stung. Jane even felt Sherlock’s skin grow warmer from his anger. He was not happy. And a not happy Sherlock wasn’t good, for anyone.

“I am awfully tired Jane.” Sherlock let her hand go, standing. “Would you like me to show you where our room is?”

“That would be lovely.” Jane answered. “Goodnight Evelina, Mycroft, and Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock stalked off, pulling Jane with him. He was very mad, and would most likely say something insulting if Jane even tried to comment on anything.

They went up a flight of stairs and made a few turns before Sherlock threw a door open and pulled Jane in.

“We are to be married in two weeks at the registry office. Lovely time for a wedding.”

“We aren’t going to talk about this?” Jane asked cautiously.

“My father is a prude arse whom I am not very fond of. What use is it to talk about the obvious? And you should not listen to him. He does not know you like I do.”

“You don’t know me as that well either Sherlock.” Jane retorted, leaning against the wall. In an instant, Sherlock was right in front of her. His head was dipped, and their lips were only centimeters apart. “Don’t-”

“And why not?” He breathed. “It is perfect research, and we really should get some practice in before the wedding, so we look at least believable, Jane.”

“Research? What for?” Jane pushed him back slightly, but continued to grip his suit.

“You say that I do not know you.” He smirked. “If I don’t, then since this marriage is going through I should get to know you, shouldn’t I? Unless knowing that the reason you wear jumpers is because you are self conscious about how you look around other men. Especially the Yard. You don’t like to wear dresses because years in the military have you adjusted to fighting in pants, but you will if needed too. Same as for skirts. You hate makeup, and find fashion interesting, even if you don’t keep up with it. And I know you keep the gun under your pillow during a case, just incase a criminal shows up.”

“Unbelievable.” Jane muttered, moving away from him. “I’m not going to ask how you know things, but that isn’t knowing a person Sherlock. What’s my, hmm, favorite movie?”

“Why should I know that? I don’t deal with boring trivia like that.” He shrugged. “Movies are dull and predictable.”

“Because that’s knowing a person. Knowing what they like, what they don’t like… The small things. I’m doing this for you for a case. Not forever Sherlock. I shouldn’t even be wearing the ring. What if it gets lost?”

“It is only a ring Jane.” He replied dismissively. “Material objects do not matter much to me. Besides, I have taste. Hence is why I chose that one.”

“You chose this one?”

“Yes, very you. The sapphire is underrated, mistaken. It is still a popular stone, but not as much as the diamond, ruby or emerald. Yet it shines very beautiful, and stands out from the others because of it’s color and clarity.”

Jane stared at Sherlock, who was now laying on the bed with his shoes kicked off.

“And you’re going to have to sleep next to me for the time we are here. Can’t have them thinking we’re not intimate.” Sherlock smirked.

“Bastard.” Jane muttered under her breath before grabbing her pajamas and walking into the attached restroom.

**~****~**

“We should discuss names.” Sherlock sat beside her on the couch and pushed his feet onto her lap. Not being able to stand his father anymore, Sherlock dragged Jane to a hotel two nights later, then they went home. (A car via Mycroft). “It’s in a week.”

“I don't recall being pregnant.” Jane smirked, typing away on her laptop. She announced to her readers that she was marrying the genius git, and reading the comments. They were now sleeping in the same bed, and getting used to sitting close and snuggling. Sherlock liked snuggling, and Jane quite enjoyed it if a boney elbow didn’t poke her. It wasn’t all that bad.

Sherlock snorted, poking her leg carefully. “I am serious Jane. We can’t leave the registry office as Sherlock Holmes and Jane Watson. It is impractical, and you’re the one with all the notions of romance about marriage.”

“Why can’t we?”

“People are going to ask, and since you are female, you should most likely take my name. It is more practical because of my business as well. Sherlock Watson does not have a good ring to it. But Jane Holmes does.”

“Do I really get any say Sherlock? You seem to have it all figured out.” Jane answered, continuing to tap away.

“You do. I know you are going to argue that you are Dr. Watson to your patients, but you can keep that. And be Jane Holmes outside of the office. When you’re with me.”

Jane had begin to think Sherlock was taking this way to seriously. It wasn’t a real marriage, but everyone was believing it was. The illusion of lovers wasn’t a hard gap to fill, since everyone suspected that they were already sleeping together.

“That’s fine.” She shrugged, not wanting to make it into a lecture.

“The man who is marrying us has a son. Whom is gay, and doesn’t like his father, because his father disapproves of him. But he works on the weddings with him. His name is Charles Rincon.”

“Isn’t that one of the men you suspect are the murderers?”

“Very well done Jane. He is. And I know it his him, but I don’t have enough evidence for it just yet. Hence is why we need to continue. His partner is his associate. His father refuses to perform civil partnerships, so any couple that are married under him, that match his M.O. they go after.

“And their M.O. is rich grooms, that have wives?”

“So far, yes. His father wanted him to marry for money, I just cannot figure out why he goes after the men first, and frames the women.

“Can I see the photos of all the men he’s killed?” Jane asked, an idea forming in her mind. Sherlock nodded, pointing to a folder on the table. Shutting her laptop, Jane grabbed the photos, looking through them. “All the men are rather good looking.”

“But that doesn’t add up.” Sherlock grabbed a photo. “They’re a variety of races, hair colors and looks.”

“Sherlock, you understand attraction right?” Jane asked, trying not to laugh.

“Of course. I understand how chemistry of the human body works Jane.” Sherlock snapped, now wrapping himself up in his robe.

“All these men have something in common. Their pastor for their marriage was Charles Rincon’s father, Anthony Rincon. So we know he’s at the weddings, watching the couples.”

“Obviously.” Sherlock turned his head away in a dismissive tone.

“Sherlock, Charles Rincon finds the men attractive.” Jane stated, shrugging her shoulders. “If you have a photo of his lover, I bet there is one thing that these men have in common with him. Weather it be hair color, eyes, lips…”

“Jane.” Sherlock jumped up. “Jane!”

“Was I wrong?” Jane nearly jumped from his excitement. It frightened her.

“You got some right.” Sherlock smiled. “Of course, I didn’t see it before. He is _clever_. So, so clever. He kills men, not because they look like his lover. But because the couples remind him of his mother and father.”

Sherlock grabbed the photos, taping them into the mirror over the fireplace.

“The first victim, Carlton Lassiter, dark hair. Charles father has dark hair. The second man was a blonde, but had light eyes. His father has light eyes. This one, same face shape. And his mother had blonde hair and blue eyes. All the women were either dyed blondes or natural blondes, and had blue eyes.” Sherlock smirked, looking at Jane. “We are too perfect of a target for him to not go after.”

“You have dark hair and light eyes like his father,” Jane spoke, looking at the photo.

“And you, look almost exactly like his mother.” Sherlock smiled, setting his hands on either side of her head. “Same blue eyes, and a little darker blonde hair. But all in all, he wouldn’t miss us.”

Sherlock pushed his lips against Jane’s in an adrenaline rush. Jane, shocked, found her eyes closed. Sherlock was properly kissing her. In the privacy of 221B Baker Street. Without the prying eyes of others.

**~****~**

“I cannot believe my sister is getting married.” Jamie announced, helping Jane straighten her uniform. It was traditional to wear it since it was only at the registry office. Make it believable. “And not having a real wedding.”

“Jamie, I don’t want a real wedding. I never thought I would be marrying.” Jane looked at herself. She looked tired. “And just, I don’t want a cupcake dress, or a sexy dress or whatever. Why not show what I’ve done for my country on my wedding day?”

“I still can’t believe you’re marrying him.” Jamie wrinkled his nose in distaste.

‘ _Neither can I._ ’ Jane thought.

“I love him.” Jane answered, being convincing. “Now let’s go. I don’t want to be late to my own wedding.”

Jamie snorted, opening the door for Jane. She walked into the office, finding Sherlock standing in perfectly tailored suit. The shirt was buttoned up all the way, and a blue tie was worn. He looked, well, amazing.

Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson were their witnesses, but Anderson, Donovan, Molly, Sean, Jamie, and even Mycroft were all there.

Vows were said and rings were given. Jane slipped the simple silver band onto Sherlock’s thin finger, spying a young man looking at Sherlock with a yearning.

When they kissed, it almost felt too real. Jane had lost her breath when they pulled and even Sherlock looked a bit, aroused.

Everyone came up and congratulated them. Even the pastor, Eric Rincon shook their hands, with his son beside him.

“What are you’re plans for he honey moon?” Charles asked. Jane smiled at him, the thought of him murdering those men and women almost not real. He looked nothing like his father, who donned graying dark hair, and eyes a shade darker than Sherlock’s.

“No, we like it here too much to leave. London would get awfully scared without Sherlock here.” Jane leaned into him. Sherlock wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping a firm grip on her.

“Would you be going back anytime to Afghanistan?” Eric asked.

“No, Jane was injured.” Sherlock answered, sincerely. Jane almost wanted to believe he cared that much. He pressed his lips against her temple. “And I’m glad she was. I would be bored and have to deal with less intelligent people more often then I like.”

Jane snorted, covering her mouth when she laughed. That was Sherlock. Call everyone in the room, including her, and idiot.

“Love you too.” She smiled, standing on her toes to kiss him. Jane felt oddly happy kissing Sherlock. Something she figured wouldn’t be really possible with the man who was ‘Married to his Work’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO REICHENBACH TONIGHT AHHHHHHHH!  
> Here's some more of Sherlock and Jane.  
> What do you think of his father (I dislike the man entirely)  
> MY CREYS. ALL MY CREYS.  
> Please enjoy this chapter, I will have the next up as soon as I'm not swimming in my own tears.


	4. Chapter Four

“Did you see the way Charles was staring at you Sherlock?” Jane asked, finally undoing her jacket. “It was disturbing, and frankly, scary.”

“I noted his expressions throughout the ceremony.” He answered, unceremoniously collapsing onto the couch. “He’s adopted. This is why he doesn’t find any shame in finding someone who looks like his father attractive. Oh, and Mrs. Hudson is coming up in about a minute.”

Sherlock pulled Jane by the wrist toward him.

“Sherlock-”

“Just go along.” He muttered, wrapping his arm around her waist. Jane had no idea how they both fit on the sofa lying side by side.

His breath trickled warmly against her neck, making her grip his arm around her a little tighter.

“Sherlock, Jane, are…” Mrs. Hudson opened the door more, stepping into the still messy flat. “Oh, you both must be worn out.”

“We very well are Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock answered muffled by Jane’s hair. He liked the smell. Vanilla and… Black cherry.

“Okay, well, don’t get too crazy.” She smiled, turning to leave. “And congratulations again. I was hoping you’d both finally give in.”

“Thank you Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock spoke again, this time tightening his grip on Jane. She smirked, snuggling in closer to him.

Mrs. Hudson left, closing the door behind her. Jane had expected Sherlock to shove her away, but they stayed the same.

“You should wear you’re uniform more often. It suits you very well, and you look very nice in it.” He muttered against her neck.

“Is that a compliment?” Jane chuckled.

“I am capable of giving compliments in the proper situations.” Sherlock muttered again. “And I am tired Jane.”

“Then go to sleep you git. I need to get out of my uniform before it creases, and your suit won’t last long if you sleep in it.”

Sherlock made a noise making Jane chuckle. He sat up, pulling her with him.

“I am going to sleep. I’ll expect you to be in bed in 20 minutes.” He placed a kiss on her temple, and headed upstairs.

“How domestic.” Jane whispered, slowly grabbing her uniform jacket. This could have been much worse.

**~****~**

One month had passed at 221B, and nothing had really changed. Sherlock was still messy, wouldn’t talk to Jane for days, and insulted everyone in the vicinity of the city when he could.

The only difference was how affectionate and domestic and  they made their life to ensure their romance was real. It was only November, and they had until the middle of January for Charles and his partner to strike. Sherlock was absolutely sure that they would go after them.

Another link was discovered, and Sherlock did explain this one to Lestrade. But he decided to so it after a case. So now Jane was worn out, and Sherlock had a bruised neck from being strangled.

“So wait the males were rich by family, not their own work?” He asked for the fourth time. Sherlock even spotted Jane nodding off in the seat beside him. “How do you know this?”

“I looked up all the families. All have parents who were very wealthy. The parents provided for the children or it was an inheritance. The killer is striking couples with wealthy males because he is attracted to males, and also, his father wanted him to marry for money.”

“Why not attack the females with money, if his father wanted him to marry for money?” Lestrade asked.

Jane heard this one, and wondered what Sherlock would come up with to deflect him from finding out all the victims have a likeness to his father.

“Because he wants to get back at his father for shaming, and ignoring that his son is a homosexual.” Sherlock  breathed out, annoyed. “So murdering wealthy males instead of females is his revenge.”

“Ah.” Lestrade raised an eyebrow. “And you decided to marry under his father because…?”

“There wasn’t anyone else available on such short notice.” Sherlock exasperated, intertwining his fingers in Jane’s. “We just wanted to be man and wife as soon as possible.”

“Mhmm.” Jane nodded, leaning into Sherlock. He was warm, and acting rather affectionate tonight.

“Uh huh.” The detective leaned back in his chair. “Alright. Well, I guess I don’t have anything for you right now. So go home, and get rest.”

“Thank you.” Jane stood up, followed by Sherlock who kept a grip on her hand. “Goodnight Lestrade.”

“G’night.” He replied, starting to type on his computer.

“Go home and eat, or do we want to go somewhere?” Jane asked, looping her arm with Sherlock’s. She knew there was a piece of bread in the fridge, with a human heart. She wasn’t touching that. And she hadn’t got to the shopping from their latest case.

“We haven’t been out in two weeks.”

“Not what I was asking.” Jane sighed.

“I find that I should be taking you out more often.” Sherlock held her arm tighter. “You’ve been good with keeping up with our marriage.”

“I kind of have too.” She replied. “They believe it. Only Lestrade, and most likely your brother suspect it’s for the case.”

“True.” He smirked. “Lestrade is becoming more intelligent.”

“The man has always been intelligent Sherlock. You’re just well above any of us.”

“Should I be jealous of your affections toward him?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

Jane snorted laughter, causing the couple walking by to stare strangely at her. She couldn’t help it.

“Really Sherlock?” She finally asked, bending over to catch her breath. “Lestrade? We’re honest to god, just good mates.”

“I know. You haven’t showed any attraction to him since the first night you met him. But that was usual. He is a handsome man.”

“And I thought nobody would notice.” She elbowed his ribs softly.

“Hiding anything from me is near to impossible.” Sherlock boasted.

“Have you found the jammie dodgers or jelly babies?”

“No. But I suspect they’re hidden somewhere in our room or in Mrs. Hudson’s flat.”

“Damn.” Jane frowned. “Well, stop eating them in one sitting, and I wouldn’t hide them. And the nutella. You shouldn’t be eating that straight from the jar.”

“It has a better taste than regular food.” Sherlock smiled, pulling Jane in the direction of a small Italian restaurant. “This place has some nice fettuccini.”

“You’re going to eat?”

“The case is over Jane dear.” Sherlock replied as if she was a complete idiot.

“I have noticed Sherlock. You still don’t eat when there aren’t any cases. You need some meat on those bones love.”

“Not when I have my soldier.” He smiled as placing a kiss against her hairline as they walked in.

Jane wanted to believe he _meant_ that so much.

**~****~**

_I’m going to kill him._ Jane thought. _I’m dangling from a window ledge for this man, and if I get home, I am going to kill him._

“You seriously thought you could get away that easily?” Then man they were chasing that night smiled, holding a hammer and a gun. “You and you’re detective husband thought you were good enough to get to me.”

He had raped and murdered ten women without a trace. But of course Sherlock discovered it was the maids brother. Another story for her blog, if she got out of this. He was going to hit her fingers or shoot her if she didn’t do anything soon.

Jane finally mustered enough strength to swing up and attempt to kick the man. She did, leaving him shocked, but he was twice her size in height and weight. The gun had fallen to the ground. Why had Sherlock run off when she actually needed him? And why had this man decided to disturb a ‘proper date to hold up their illusion of a couple’? She was in a bloody dress again, and had heels on. High heels, and her favorite pair of tights were ripped and had blood stains from the wood piercing her skin.

And it wasn’t enough that they were in the beginning of January, so plans were being made to ensure that they were both not killed by Charles and his partner.

“My wife was you’re size.” The man smirked. “But you’re rather curvy. She was just a twig. Maybe I could just get away with a couple of things before they arrive and find your mangled body and me gone.”

He slowly started backing Jane into the corner. She had wished that she might have just jumped from the ledge. Maybe she would have just broken her leg instead of dealing with the threat of being violated.

There was a weapon. There were actually a couple she never left with. There was always the opportunity to carry her gun and a knife when out with Sherlock. But he had her gun and she wasn’t sure how much damage the knife could do.

“No one would hear you scream you know.” He sneered, tapping the hammer against his palm softly. “Not even that man you’re married too.”

Options were running out. Either fight the man off, knowing she would be unsuccessful, climb onto the ledge of the window and pray she wouldn’t fall with her shoes, or stab him in the jugular.

The hammer narrowly missed her head, but the claw scrapped her temple. He might actually win this…

Jane fought the man off best she could. He was much stronger than her, but he was still able to get punched and kicked rather hard. So he didn’t fight often, that was her advantage. But he was able to take them…

 _The window_. Jane thought, dodging him before climbing out. She wasn’t panicking, but the thought of her death tonight crossed her mind. Sherlock was no where near, and she normally had that advantage when dealing with a heftier criminal.

Then she heard Sherlock shout from the floor below.

“Jane!” His voice was full of worry, which was an unusual sound to hear coming from him.

All the windows in the building were broken. If she could easily swing down-

“Too bad you’re going to be dead when he finds you.” The mans voice was right beside her, and his hand had grabbed her arm. She wasn’t far enough from the window.

“You asked for this.” Jane whispered when being dragged roughly back by the collar of her jacket. She pulled the knife from the holster on her thigh and thrust it into his leg.

He let out a blood curdling scream before falling onto his knees and releasing her. Jane pulled the knife out and kicked him back. She could kill him. She could rip him to shreds with the simple knife in her hand.

“Don’t, they’re here.” Sherlock there wrapping his arm around her. “He’s lost enough blood from where you stabbed him to leave him weak.”

She only nodded, leaning into Sherlock. He was warm, and she could hear his heart beating hastily in his chest.

Not two minutes later Lestrade was there with the rest of the yard, Anderson and Donovan included.

“What the bloody hell were you thinking Sherlock?” Lestrade finally got to shouting at him once the murderer was apprehended, and Jane was out of earshot in getting taken care of in an ambulance. “She could have been killed Sherlock. He was twice her size.”

“And yet she caught him quicker than you or I did.”

“That’s not the point.” The man breathed out, gripping the bridge of his nose. “You don’t go running after rapist murderers on your own. I invited you on the case, but you cannot do that. What would have happened if he had raped and killed Jane?”

“I don’t have time for this.” Sherlock slipped his gloves on. “She just caught you a serial killer.”

“I want to hear you say it.” Lestrade replied, angry. “I want to hear you admit it.

“Admit what? Feelings never get people anywhere.” Sherlock responded coldly. “Do I honestly have to tell you?”

“I knew this marriage wasn’t real Sherlock-”

“What do you know of Greg?” Sherlock finally snapped. “You don’t know anything about my life with her other than what you see that is obvious. What you don’t see, is that she’s above average intelligence, is rarely boring, puts up with me and my black moods, and makes sure that I don’t drop dead. Weather it be on a case, or at home with meals and sleep. She doesn’t tell me to piss off when I state things about her she doesn’t like. She agrees with my brilliance and doesn’t call me a freak. And I love the way her hair smells when she is fresh from out of the shower, or how she still tries to hide her battle scars like she is ashamed of them, but can fight better than a man. More than a man actually. She brings out the tiniest bit of caring I never had for victims. So don’t try to imply that I wouldn’t react to her being killed. Because if that day _ever_ comes, whomever is responsible, I will hunt down to the ends of the earth, and they will suffer at my own personal hand.”

Lestrade stared at Sherlock in disbelief. The man poured his heart out in his own way.

“Holy crap Sherlock, you’re in love with her.” Lestrade finally stated.

“It would seem that this comes as a shock to you.” Sherlock replied calmed down from his rant. “As it is, I don’t see how this is shocking. I thought it was completely obvious, but I guess no one obtains my observation skills, so no one would have guessed.”

“Sherlock, I apologize for assuming that you didn’t care for her.” Lestrade folded his arms. “But I still would like to be informed if you are pursuing a case without me. I don’t want any extra damage from these criminals.”

“I shall do my best. No if you excuse me, I have a wife to attend too.” Sherlock turned, walking swiftly toward Jane, who was now wrapped an orange blanket. “Jane…”

She only turned her head to look up at him. He looked frazzled and nearly distraught.

“Are you okay?” Sherlock asked, noticing some bruises developing around her neck. She didn’t answer. “Lestrade said charges won’t be pressed.”

“I did think I was going to die tonight.” Jane nodded her head slowly. “But it didn’t scare me. I didn’t panic, nor did I give up.”

“And you had the knife concealed on your left thigh. Very well done.”

Jane let out a laugh, now holding on to Sherlock’s arm.

“Why is that funny?”

“You comment on hiding my knife, and possibly gun. But not on the bruises, or scrapes.” She replied, still laughing. “Oh man, nothing really changes does it?”

“I did in fact notice that you had bruises around your neck.” Sherlock replied with an edge in his voice. “And the scrape on your temple? From the claw of the hammer he threw at you I gather. The rest are from being kicked, pushed, or thrown onto the splintering wooden floor. And yet you maintained to keep you heeled shoes on the whole time.”

“Ha, yes. I did.” Jane continued to giggle, still running on adrenaline.

“He didn’t do anything else did he?”

“I wouldn’t let him get that close. Other than throwing me around a bit, I preoccupied him with trying to get to me before he had any chance of touching me. And where the bloody hell did you get too?”

“Thought I went into the right building when I was separated from you. I miscalculated the distance, and you were already gone.” Sherlock replied, almost upset. “I was worried about what he might do to you.”

“Are you serious?” Jane asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a man twice as tall as you, but you can take me down easily because of my weight. I would guarantee the same with the opposite. But he was at least three hundred plus pounds and taller than me. I did worry because I had your gun, and I was not sure what he might try to do to you.”

Jane stared at him, watching him look away like the night she called him an idiot. That was his give away. And only Jane knew, well Mycroft most likely knew, but living with the man long enough, she knew some of his tells.

“Other than being a bit sore, I am fine Sherlock.” She patted his arm. “C’mon, I am starving, and extremely tired-”

“Jane, he did nearly get to you.” Sherlock whispered, moving the collar of her coat. Scratch marks could be seen on the top of her back and shoulders.

“Can we please go home?” Jane stood up, grabbing his arm.

“Yes, but you are going to tell me exactly what happened.” Sherlock intertwined their fingers. They were very good at this now. Small kisses in the flat and public. The occasional snog to remind everyone that they were in fact in love and still having the spark. This included several times when a criminal reached Jane first.

**~****~**

Jane awoke with a start, hearing a noise come from down stairs.

“Sherlock.” Jane elbowed him, military training kicking in. “Sherlock, he’s here.”

“I heard.” The man grumbled, sitting up. “He’s going to be sure that I might attack him while you stay in bed. Take your gun, I’m going first.”

Sherlock threw a shirt on and grabbed the knife Jane always kept under the mattress. Jane reached for her gun and tucked it into the waistband of her pajamas.

“Step as light as you can and skip the third and twelfth step.” Sherlock whispered, opening the door slowly. Jane followed behind him, keeping her fingers against his arm.

“Remember what we talked about.” He stopped, pressing his back against the wall. Jane only nodded, and pulled Sherlock down for a kiss. She didn’t know where it came from, but it was something that she needed to do.

Sherlock pulled away and walked into the room where Charles and his partner was. Jane heard a few thumps, pulling a gun from a near by drawer.

“Drop it.” Jane stepped in, pointing at Charles and a dark haired man. He had her knife, and was holding Sherlock by the hair. “Drop the knife Charles.”

“Haha, you really think you can shoot us both?” He laughed while the other man launched himself at her. Jane was able to hit him, knocking the wind out of his lungs, and broke his nose with the butt of her gun.

“Drop the damn knife.” Jane warned again.

“Drop the gun, or I’ll rip your precious husband to shreds.” Charles seethed, yanking Sherlock up and holding the knife against his pale skin. “You can still pull the trigger, and he could still have his throat cut open at the same time.”

“Fine.” Jane spoke calmly, setting it onto the floor and holding her hands up. She didn’t want him using the knife. Not on Sherlock.

“Jane…” Sherlock choked out, shocked. It was rare to hear it in his voice, and Jane knew she was going against his plan.

“Now,” Charles brought Sherlock with him towards the dropped gun. He picked it up, dropping the knife away from them. “Get the chair, and tie him to it.”

Jane nodded, grabbing the nearest chair. Charles threw Sherlock towards it, and threw a rope toward Jane.

“Tie him too it. Now.” He demanded. Jane pulled Sherlock into the chair, and slowly tied his hands around the back.

“He’s really going to kill us now, and it’s going to look like a murder suicide Jane.” Sherlock snapped quietly, eyeing Charles. “How could you be so stupid? How? I should have known-”

“Shut up.” Charles spat. “My father. He would be proud of someone like you.” He pointed the gun towards Jane.

“Like me?” Jane asked, tightening the rope on Sherlock.

“Army. Perfect. A girl. Someone that looks like my mother.” He seethed, pressing the gun into her side. “The moment you walked in the registry office with that, I knew I’d kill you.”

“Wait…” Sherlock shook his head, pulling against the ropes. “Her… You’re after Jane?”

“I always made my father believe I was homosexual. And I thought I was too. But I’m bisexual, and I find anyone who resembles my parents, especially my mother attractive. Daniel reminds me at my father. But you, Jane Holmes, are almost the exact image of my mother.”

“But you targeted families with money. Especially males.”

“Because I know she married you more for your money. I mean come on, I’ve read about you. Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, and you don’t have any feelings. I’ve watched you on cases. Who would marry you?” He laughed, pointing the gun at Jane. “Move away from him now. I’m going to do this correctly.”

“You did want to marry the girl you’re father chose, but you claimed to love men to go against him.” Sherlock’s eyes widened. “Oh, you are brilliant. Framing the wives, making it look like they killed their husbands for money, but felt bad. And you made them shoot themselves.”

“Yes I did.” He laughed, “And now, I’m going to shoot you, then she’s going to kill herself.”

Sherlock stared down the barrel of the gun Charles was holding. The shot was loud, and Mrs. Hudson would be devastated at the stains against the wall and floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to the ending, my awesome readers. BUT, I have a surprise for you. I plan on making this a series. I have one more chapter of this story that will include the epilogue. Then, I have a one shot half way written and plans for future stories.
> 
> I watched Reichenbach, and it help me set up the perfect scenario for future stories.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I am so grateful and happy that you are enjoying it! :D


	5. Chapter Five

“You honestly think I was going to let him _kill_ us Sherlock?” Jane asked, breathless, pupils dilated, and hands steady. The gun was still pointed toward where Charles Rincon had been standing. “Fat lot of good you were.”

Yet all Sherlock could do was stare at Jane. He was undoubtedly at a loss for words.

Jane came up behind him and untied the rope carefully from his wrists. They red and raw, covered in blood from how much he pulled against them.

“I didn’t mean to tie it so tight.” Jane spoke quietly. “I didn’t want him to think you were going to ambush him.”

The man laid in pain, moaning on the floor, his shoulder bleeding onto the carpet and seeping in. Sherlock stared at her still, then looked at the body on the floor.

“You grabbed the gun from the drawer.” He stated, kicking the other gun away from Charles. “And kept the other under your jumper.”

Jane nodded, still holding the gun much like Sherlock had during the pool incident. Her composure was falling slowly.

“Jane.” Sherlock stepped over, pushing her hair back. “Are you alright?”

“I’m always alright Sherlock.” She whispered. Sherlock took the gun from her hand, clicked the safety on to set it on the mantle.

“You did just beat a man to a pulp and shoot another.”

“And I just tied you to a chair.”

Sherlock smiled pressing a gentle kiss against her temple. She wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit, or hers, but she hopped it was both.

**~****~**

“I am fine.” Sherlock snapped, pushing Jane’s hands away. “I don’t have bruising.”

“You are bruised on your ribcage, and have a very long scratch from a knife on your neck Sherlock. Stop pushing me away!”

“I don’t feel any pain- OW! What was that for?” Sherlock bellowed when Jane poked him hard against the ribs.

“For the bruising. You are bruised, and since you refused to go to the hospital after questioning, I’m taking care of it.” Jane replied, setting the stethoscope back in her ears.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital because it’s two in the morning. And you most likely just formed another bruise on my chest Dr. Watson.” Sherlock scowled. Jane ignored him, setting the cold stethoscope on his chest. He flinched, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Breathe.” Jane spoke calmly. He did, and it sounded normal. She switched sides and also checked along the back as well. “We’ll your breathing is fine. And the bruise will get darker. You just need to be careful. As for the cut, it shouldn’t be infected, but just in case…”

Jane ripped open an alcohol swab and gently cleaned the wound. Sherlock let out a long suffering sigh, obviously irritated with her.

“Out with it Sherlock.” Jane threw the swab into the nearby bin. “God knows what’s on your mind this early in the morning.”

“You tied me to the chair Jane.” He sat up, pulling his shirt down, and glued his eyes to her. “You idiotically listened to him, and tied me to the chair. You did not even let it be loose enough for me to get out and help you.”

“He would have shot you.”

“He was obviously going to play it out as long as he could.”

“Why are you mad at me Sherlock? I saved both our arses again, and made sure you weren’t murdered, and that I didn’t shoot myself.”

“You went against plan-”

“I had a back up. I wasn’t taking any damn chances with that man. Since when do you go with the plan?”

“Damn it Jane, I did not want him to hurt you!” Sherlock shouted, voice booming and causing Jane to jump back. In this moment they had switched places. Sherlock was shouting at Jane for going against plan by herself when normally it would be the other way around.

“Sherlock-”

“Listen.” Sherlock let out a breath. “I, I don’t know how to say these words without making myself sound like the stupidest, most idiotic, man alive. And I’m not, I don’t-” He paused, folding his hands under his chin. “I’m not equipped mentally to outwardly speak of… Emotions.”

“Go on.” Jane whispered, feeling her heart beat harder in her chest.

“I think we should stay married.” He responded. “I find that marriage makes us better. I find that we’re comfortable, and nothing really changed. I want to try, being in a real relationship. And if it ultimately doesn’t work, then we can go ahead and get a divorce.”

He looked upon his feet, finding that he was rather warm for January in his cotton pajamas.

“Wouldn’t you be cheating on your work?”

“This isn’t a joke.” Sherlock frowned. “You are making fun of me.”

“I am not.” Jane smirked, planting a hand on her hip. “But this isn’t you Sherlock. You remember what you’ve told many people? That you’re a sociopath?”

“Just because I’ve said I am, does not mean I am. I find that being emotionally attached to people never helped me. Self diagnosing myself as a sociopath lead to no one coming near me. Except you. And I let you. So, Jane Watson, will you remain my wife?”

“Don’t you already know the answer?” Jane smiled.

“It’s nice to hear verbal conformation.” Sherlock whispered, stepping in front of her.

“Even with how utterly romantic this has become, yes. I will remain you’re wife.” Jane answered feeling Sherlock press his lips against hers harshly.

It felt nice to finally kiss without watchful eyes around them.

**~****~**

**_Epilogue - A few months later:_ **

“That is coming out of your rent young man!” Mrs. Hudson shouted as Jane walked past her up the stairs. “I don’t know how you live with that man sometimes.”

Before Jane could ask what Sherlock had done, Mrs. Hudson slammed the door the her flat closed.

“Sherlock, what did you do?” Jane asked, walking into the flat. Then she smelled it. “You burnt the rug. Sherlock, the rug? And the floor!?”

“Bored…” Was the mans response. His face had smudges of ash, as well as the light blue shirt he wore. “It was for a case. Found out the info at the beginning stages, texted Lestrade and decided to continue.”

“You can’t destroy things when you are bored.” She shook her head, and grabbed a towel from the kitchen. “Especially things we _can’t_ afford to purchase again.”

“I can afford it Jane. You know this. And since we are married, by means, _we_ can afford a new rug. And that was a terrible rug.”

“So you lit it on fire?”

“Not intentionally. Though it got lit during an experiment was very delightful.” He smiled. Jane threw the towel at him and it landed on his head. “What was that for?”

“Can’t you tell?” Jane snapped, placing her hands on her hips.

“I know you are upset with me for the rug. The evidence is written all over your face and your eyes Jane. We’ve known each other over a year. No need to throw a towel at me. I happen to enjoy my hair the way it was.” He stood up, striding towards Jane. She huffed, crossing her arms, and wrinkled her nose at Sherlock. “Fine. I am _terribly_ sorry for the inconvenience of burning the god awful rug on out floor.”

“No you’re not.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted? An apology, rare as it comes?”

“Mostly yes, but most of the time, you mean it. I could threaten you with-”

“Don’t.” Sherlock held his hand up, knowing what she was going to say. The fact that she was going to threaten him with taking his experiments away was a very bad idea. He had to redo an entire experiment because he inadvertently pissed Jane off, and she hid it. “We are out of milk again.”

“Oh, what did you do with it this time?”

“I had tea with Mrs. Hudson yesterday.” He replied with a shrug. “Bored.”

“Alright. I’ll be back.” Jane nodded with an eye roll.

“Love you…” Sherlock whispered when the door closed. She had to know. Sherlock had stated it before, only Jane hasn’t mentioned her feelings to him yet. They had been married for six months, two weeks and a day, and still were not intimate in any possible way, except for an occasional snog. Sherlock knew Jane loved him. He knew very well, but also knew that she hadn’t been in love with him when they married for the case. Sherlock was in love with Jane at that time, but no one would have believed him.

A couple hours later Jane returned, finding the rug still burnt but clean. Sherlock had cleaned the burned bit to the best of his ability, and pulled another rug over to cover the stains.

 _At least he cleaned,_ Jane thought, surprised at the gesture. It was rare that Sherlock would do anything like that. He was no where to be found at that moment either.

She put the shopping away, and settled herself to the table to read the paper. Not five minutes in, she heard his voice.

“Jane.” The baritone filler her ears. “Jane, Jane, Jaaaaaaane.”

“What?” She asked, finding him laying on the couch in his dressing gown. She stood over his head on the opposite end.

“Jane,” Sherlock settled, a smile crossing his features.

“Hmm?”

He then frowned, folding his arms, a faint hint of smoke and alcohol hitting his nose. His pout didn‘t last long. Jane pressed her lips against his upside down, and settled her hands over his heart. Sherlock set his on hers, gripping them tightly, afraid of loosing her, even though she had promised to never leave.

“I’m not going to leave.” Jane whispered, reading his eyes. His response was pulling her on the sofa and curling up beside her.

“I know.” Sherlock rested his head against her shoulder, taking her wrist with his fingers. Jane’s pulse was  gentle.

“Any cases?”

“Nothing interesting as of late. When you were out, a woman came by with something about her husband disappearing and showed me the letter. He had ran away. It was easily readable-”

“Oh please tell me you didn’t insult her?”

“She did leave in a rather angry rampage-”

“Sherlock…” Jane sighed, setting her hand on her face. “You can’t do that! What have I told you about treating your clients?”

“I can’t help it if they are completely boring Jane. She was. Her make up was over done. Her perfume was ridiculous and strong. Her jewelry was gaudy and fake. Unnecessary. She was _hoping_ her husband would have run away, and I pointed that out. It was obvious.”

“Your clients are your business. And you don’t want them running away-”

“Correction, you don’t want them running away. I just need the work. Some of these cases are hardly challenging enough for me anymore. They’re all just _boring_. No serial murderers have been on the rampage lately.”

“Which is also good for the people of London Sherlock.” Jane chuckled. “I know it’s extremely boring for people to live.”

“It’s not just that Jane. Even an interesting robbery or _something_.” Sherlock sighed, getting up. He paced in front of the fireplace. “I am literally bored. What about cluedo?”

“No, not that one again.” Jane shook her head, opening her laptop.

“Well obviously the victim did it!” Sherlock came over an slammed it shut.

“That is literally impossible! Sherlock, the victim can’t be the murderer. It’s in the rules. Is there anything on the website?”

“No, nothing!!!” Sherlock shouted. “I need a case!”

“You just solved one Sherlock!” Jane shouted back.

“That was earlier. I need one now. Or something.” Sherlock snapped his head toward Jane. “You.”

“Me?”

“You went to the store. But came back slower than normal. You ran into someone. Someone you don’t care to run into.” Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Your brother. He wasn’t drunk, but he was going to be drunk. Invited you to go to the bar with him for a bit, which was why you were a couple hours later than you normal would be. But you went anyways. You wanted to see if he would drink, and by the looks of your face when you came back he disappointed you.”

“Sherlock-”

“And he most likely made a comment about your relationship with me. In which you answered with the normal response _‘Everything is great.’_ Even when it isn’t, you didn’t want to give your brother the excuse to judge your marriage.”

“Sherlock, stop.” Jane shouted, jumping up. “Do not do that. I don’t care if see me every day, and can pick up all that from a single look. What do you mean when it isn’t?”

“Oh come on Jane. Everything isn’t perfect. I solve crimes, and you blog about it, but you still get aggravated with me.”

“Of course I do. You’re Sherlock. You leave specimens out, you burn rugs, use all the milk, throw papers around and wear three to five nicotine patches. Yes, I get aggravated with you. But I love you, so I put up with it.”

“I use the nicotine patches to make life less boring- Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” Jane crossed her arms.

“Say that again.” Sherlock stepped in front of her, nose centimeters from her own.

“I get aggravated with you. But I love you. Okay? I said it.” Jane replied quietly, dropping her gaze to the floor.

“You would be happy to know that my, feelings-” Sherlock stopped, the words sounding foreign and wrong coming from his mouth. “Are the same.”

“I know.” Jane chuckled. “Well, I have known. You’re not very obvious, but when you want to be caring and affectionate, it’s not hard to read.”

“I take pride in your observation skills Jane. They have vastly improved over the course of our marriage. And time together.”

“Sherlock, don’t ruin the moment.” Jane smiled pressing her lips to Sherlock’s. He kissed back, her face in his hands.

Sherlock finally pushed Jane slowly back against the couch, hovering over her. Was this going to happen? Could he finally go through, and not back out like he had so many times before?

When Sherlock pressed his lips down her neck, his phone could be heard. A text. A case?

“Ug, just get it Sherlock.” Jane pushed him off, adjusting herself. Frowning, he looked at the phone.

_Missing persons case, reopened. Body found, possible serial killer. **-GL**_

Sherlock looked over the message then to Jane, who had moved to her chair with the news paper. She was aggravated with him.

_How long can it wait? **-SH**_

_You’re kidding me, right? Putting off a case? **-GL**_

_I have some important matters at hand. How long? **-SH**_

_Just come down here. It shouldn’t take too long. **-GL**_

Sherlock groaned, and stood up, removing his dressing gown.

“An interesting case?” Jane asked from behind the paper.

“Yes, missing person, found. It’s a cold case and they had been missing. Bones were found, and they match. Case reopened.”

“Have fun. I’m sure you don’t need me on this one.”

“Jane,” Sherlock lowered the paper, finding her eyes red. “Jane?”

“I knew that this relationship wasn’t going to change you. I didn’t want it too. I love you, even if you are an annoying dick half the time. But I had just hoped that we’d have some sort of intimacy between us. I realize crimes are what you need to thrive. I know you need the game to keep sane. I understand it. I need the thrill of chasing people through out London to function properly. Oh god, I’m getting emotional, and you don’t like me being emotional-”

“And I also need you to keep me in check.” Sherlock planted his hands on either side of her. “You know me better than anyone else, and,” He paused, again the words feeling odd coming from him. “There is a proper time for everything.”

“Did you just become philosophical about emotions?” Jane stared up at him.

“I’m making deductions about emotions.” Sherlock stood up straight. “What has happened to me?”

Jane laughed, standing up to grab her jacket.

“So, the possibility of hacked up bones? And possibly more bodies to discover? This is going to be a good one!” Sherlock exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “Come, Jane dear, we need to get there as soon as possible.”

_Best marriage either could ask for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of this story.
> 
> I have't decided the title of the series yet. I've got a one shot done, and I'm reworking A Scandal In Belgravia, The Hounds of Baskerville, and The Reichenbach Fall right now, and there will be post Reichenbach fics.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed them. I loved writing about Sherlock and Jane.
> 
> The epilogue took a bit to write. I didn't know how I wanted this story to end, so I hope it isn't disappointing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers!
> 
> I hope you liked the first chapter! I have four more chapters of Sherlock Holmes and Jane Watson.
> 
> AND, I'm doing my best to characterize Sherlock. And also, I see Jane more like Haley Atwell in Captain America.


End file.
